Beast
by Kireshai
Summary: Jack and Ianto's son is somewhat of a rowdy one. Janto, implied mpreg.


**Beast** by Kireshai.

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, or Doctor Who, or any Sci Fi TV series. Also, not for profit, or any form of financial remuneration.

A/N: Well, a companion piece (of sorts) to my DW fic, **Beauty**. It's of a very similar style, and I'm thinking the two can form some sort of prologue to a new and different fic. I must apologise to a bunch of people who have done janto mpreg, because I'm basically assuming their ideas about 51st century men. Also, I deny the existence of CoE. Never will it darken my fanfiction!!

* * *

He is a terror to behold. The mothers wince in imagined pain as they watch him swing gaily from the bough of the tallest tree. Their eyes dart around, examining their immediate surroundings, searching vainly for the mother that can control that beast of a boy. A sigh of relief floats through the crowd as a man in a painstakingly neat suit walks calmly towards the boy and retrieves him from his dangerous perch. Satisfied, the women return to their gossiping, and miss the sight of another man approach. The tender look that he shares with the man in the suit and the cheeky look he gives the boy could fuel their gossip for a month.

His relatives think he eats like an animal. In their horror, they forget that they also were young once, that they once were grasping the use of a knife and fork. They stare, frozen by the shocking display before them; the pearl white tablecloth that cost a fortune is being covered ever so slowly with tomato sauce. After all the relatives have gone, his father cleans up after the meal, and he realises the state that he has left the stunning tablecloth in. He stutters out words of apology, but is silenced by the warm arms of his father. His father whips the tablecloth from the table, and studies it intensely, then laughs so clearly that if it weren't so low, it might sound like the tinkling of a bell. His father proclaims it to be brilliant, an up and coming artiste's first work of art, and passes it to him to keep; he decides to call it 'The Tragedy of Hunger'.

His father tells him he dresses like a savage. He doesn't know what it means, but he can tell that it's bad, not from the look on the face as the words are thrown forth, nor from the set of the mouth or the squint of the eyes. He knows that it's bad because his other father will start scolding, the undone waistcoat flapping about dangerously. He looks down at his clothes, and doesn't know what's wrong. They are plain, and similar to what he sees the other children wear, so he cannot comprehend how his father could find any fault. Waistcoat finally buttoned, his other father kneels in front of him, smoothing down the wrinkles in his clothes as usual. He listens as he is told not to pay attention to his father, and smiles when he hears an apology coming from the man he cannot see, but he says nothing, cannot grant forgiveness, because he doesn't know what to forgive.

They always yell he is a monster. It's the word that precedes the tears and recriminations. The girls stare at him, their eyes accusing, as they wipe their cheeks raw. He doesn't understand why they balk when he kisses them, because it's what he sees his fathers do every morning. The teacher doesn't call him a monster, but he can see that look in her eyes, the one that doesn't go away even when he feels the tears of humiliation start to leak. When his father comes to collect him, the teacher takes the man aside. She whispers frantically, and the finger that points at him is shaking in fury. Trepidation comes upon him as he watches the familiar legs tread in his direction, but it is gone in an instant when he is swept up in the strong, shirt-clad arms. He wants to ask if he is in trouble, but he is still too nervous to speak, but as always the man reads his mind. A shake of the head, and he knows his unasked question is being answered. Strangely, the words comfort him. "Like father like son, Tiernan."

* * *

So, a few things to say... good lord, that was tad longer than expected, but that ended up being more scenario based than the other one, so no real surprise there... For anyone wondering, I think Tiernan is a real name, but I am unsure of the origin. Tier, however, means beast/animal in German, so I though it was appropriate.


End file.
